


not another high school drama

by thunderylee



Category: SixTONES (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Hokuto’s already played a lot of roles at such a young age, but nothing compares to the one he’s living right now.





	not another high school drama

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for je-fqfest 2013.

At newly eighteen years old, being a virgin was practically unheard of. They’ve all seen  _Stand Up!_ , anyway; it’s practically a requirement to join Johnny’s these days. While most workplaces show safety videos or training exercises, Johnny’s Juniors watch dramas and concerts, though most of them—Hokuto included—already had the classics under their belts before auditioning.

What’s great about Horikoshi is that nobody gives a shit about Matsumura Hokuto. It’s known as the idol high school, so while Hokuto may appear on TV at least once a week, he’s not the only one. There is also a lot of homework and studying required, so even if there were fangirls amongst the student population, they’re too busy to do much more than admire from afar.

At least that’s what Hokuto tells himself at midnight on his eighteenth birthday when his first thought is that he’s still never so much as touched a girl. He’s kissed one, back in middle school after B.I. Shadow was formed, but it was more chaste than his drama kisses and those don’t count anyway. Not to mention that he’s not even sure he wants to be kissing girls, not with the feeling he gets when he sees a certain senpai shining on TV and in the magazines.

“Stare any harder and you’ll get pregnant,” Juri says from the next futon, and Hokuto would smack him with the  _Myojo_  issue he’s holding if he wasn’t staring so intently at the spread. “Why do you even buy those, anyway?”

“They’re my mom’s,” Hokuto answers truthfully. “She buys all of the ones I’m in.”

“Aww.” Juri’s smile fills his entire face, and Hokuto feels a little better about his life. “But seriously, if you want to tap that, I can hook that up for you.”

“You mean Koki-nii can hook that up,” Hokuto corrects him. “And what makes you think I want to ‘tap that’? Maybe I’m just admiring his complexion. Besides, Taiga and Jesse are the ones in the drama with him. Not that it matters.”

“Whatever, you’re practically humping the mattress.” Juri laughs when Hokuto’s eyes widen. “Relax, I’m kidding. What’s gotten into you? It’s your birthday, you should be happy.”

“I am happy.” Hokuto frowns. “I just feel like everyone’s done it but me.”

“Done it…” Juri repeats slowly, then gasps. “You haven’t? Seriously?”

Hokuto shoves at him. “Not all of us have older brothers to buy us hookers, you know.”

“She wasn’t a hooker!” Juri exclaims, grabbing the nearest pillow to thwack Hokuto with. “At least, he didn’t pay her.”

“Disgusting,” Hokuto mutters, snatching the pillow to hit Juri back. “I hope you got tested after that.”

Juri just rolls his eyes and snatches the magazine instead. “Maybe I’ll have niichan tell senpai to notice you. Like he noticed Taiga.”

Hokuto pauses in his pillow attack. “He had Taiga?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t  _there_ ,” Juri says pointedly. “But they seemed pretty cozy after our Shokura performance awhile back.”

“Ugh.” Hokuto buries his head under the pillow instead. “I’m so jealous.”

“You don’t have to be,” Juri says, and his voice is softer now. “It’s just sex, Hokku.”

“Says the one who’s done it.”

Juri doesn’t reply right away, and Hokuto finally looks up to see him flipping through the magazine. “You’re not just some fangirl who only has pictures to fantasize about, you know,” Juri finally tells him. “He’s a good senpai—he’ll help you out.”

Huffing, Hokuto thinks about golden-brown skin and soft eyes and plush lips and has to stop before he really does hump the mattress. “Life is unfair,” he grumbles.

“Spoken by a true eighteen year old,” Juri teases, but his laugh sounds forced.

*

Fujigaya is even prettier than in the magazines. Hokuto hasn’t had much of a chance to see him up close, just a few interactions over the past year, but he seems to shine where he stands, all smiles because he loves his kouhai and cherishes any opportunity he has to help them with anything.

Usually Hokuto doesn’t have a shy bone in his body, but his nerves are racing as he looks Fujigaya in the face, almost eye to eye. Hokuto may be a smidgen taller, but he’s not about to make them both kick off their shoes to find out for sure. True height is impossible to determine in Johnny’s because of all the shoe lifts.

“Hokuto-kun,” Fujigaya says brightly, and Hokuto can’t help but smile just from being in his presence. “You’re quite the popular junior, aren’t you? I think you’ve had more drama roles than me.”

“Hardly,” Hokuto dismisses, though it’s probably close. His face feels warm, his hands making fists at his sides because all he can think about is how Fujigaya’s adam’s apple jumps when he speaks.

“At any rate, I don’t think you need acting tips at all.” Fujigaya tilts his head at the undoubtedly confused look Hokuto projects at him. “Isn’t that why you wanted to meet with me? Koki said that Juri-kun told him you admired my acting…is that not true?”

“That’s not what I said, but I do admire your acting,” Hokuto says quickly, noticing the pout form on Fujigaya’s face, and he totally cannot handle that at all. “I admire everything about you. You’re amazing.”

Fujigaya takes his bottom lip between his teeth like he were embarrassed. “Wow, thank you.”

“I mean, you must get that all the time,” Hokuto backpedals, shrugging for effect, though he’s probably no more convincing than Shintaro trying to act tough.

Fujigaya’s cheeks actually turn pink. “I do, but it’s different coming from a cute kouhai.”

Hokuto is entirely positive his own face is even brighter from the compliment; what a pair they must make right now. “Thank you, senpai.”

“So,” Fujigaya says conversationally, and Hokuto has a feeling that the older man can see right through him. “If you don’t want acting tips, what do you want from me?”

“I want…” Hokuto starts, a multitude of things on the tip of his tongue, but one word seems to encompass them all: “You.”

Fujigaya blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

Fujigaya inhales deeply; Hokuto can see his chest rise and fall from the force of it. His fists tighten even more, itching to touch Fujigaya’s skin for himself. He wonders if it’s as warm and soft as it looks. It distracts him from Fujigaya’s eyes, which are staring at him incredulously, though his face seems to flush more.

“Any particular reason?” he finally asks, his voice betraying whatever calmness he would otherwise portray by almost cracking like he were younger than Hokuto himself.

“You’re  _gorgeous_ ,” Hokuto answers without thinking. “I love your voice, the way you move, everything. Juri said I should ask you to show me what to do, because I’ve never—”

He stops abruptly, noticing how Fujigaya’s eyes widen animatedly, and it occurs to him in that instant that Fujigaya might not have ever touched Taiga, or any of the other juniors, or possibly anyone in the agency. Panic surges through him at the possibility that Fujigaya isn’t attracted to boys at all, and he’s about to turn and hightail it right out of the room when he feels a gentle pressure on his arm.

“Don’t run,” Fujigaya says, his eyes still big but not as scary. “You are really brave to say all of that without knowing how I’d react.”

“Juri said you had Taiga,” Hokuto blurts out by way of excuse. Putting the blame on Juri makes him feel less embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have believed it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Fujigaya tells him, loosening his grip now that Hokuto isn’t going to bolt. “If things happened between he and I, I’m not going to be the one to say it. It’s his business to tell you that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry,” Hokuto says again, lowering his head in shame.

“Hey.” A finger props his chin up, and Fujigaya is so close that his breath tickles Hokuto’s cheek. “I said it’s okay. Do you have somewhere we can go, or…?”

It takes Hokuto a second to realize what Fujigaya is asking, gasping when he does. “You mean…”

“I still live at home,” Fujigaya says sheepishly, shoving both hands into his pockets, “and love hotels are never a good idea. Neither is work.”

“I live at home, too,” Hokuto grumbles. “Obviously, since I just turned eighteen.”

Fujigaya flashes a grin. “Congratulations on your birthday.”

“Yours too,” Hokuto replies. “We’re a week apart, right?”

“And a few years,” Fujigaya adds pointedly, but Hokuto doesn’t need anyone to tell him that. He knows Fujigaya’s stats just as well as the fangirls do. “Let me see if Watta will let me use his place.”

Hokuto’s jaw drops as Fujigaya pulls out his phone and hits a speed-dial button. Yokoo must pick up on the first ring, because Fujigaya’s immediately launching into a very vague explanation about borrowing Yokoo’s couch with emphasis on Yokoo not being home. Yokoo must give permission, because Fujigaya flashes a filthy smirk that has Hokuto’s blood boiling and he thanks Yokoo before hanging up.

“You ready?” Fujigaya asks, then laughs at what must be shock on Hokuto’s face. “That’s a loaded question, huh?”

“I’ll say,” Hokuto answers, but he lifts his eyes to meet Fujigaya’s. Resolutely. “Let’s go.”

*

Hokuto really is taller than Fujigaya, just by a centimeter or two, but that just means it’s easier to kiss him, arms loose around his waist while Fujigaya holds onto Hokuto’s shoulders and presses their lips together. It’s easy for Hokuto to follow the leader, copying Fujigaya’s actions that become instinctual with each passing second. Fujigaya tastes enticing, a hint of smoke mixed with mint and whatever balm Fujigaya puts on his lips, and Hokuto can’t get enough of it.

It’s Hokuto who deepens the kiss, because it feels right, and Fujigaya makes a low noise of pleasant surprise as he parts his lips and licks Hokuto’s tongue. Hokuto has seen people kiss like this on television but never thought it could be so  _hot_ , his mind racing before Fujigaya even touches him. Fingers graze his jaw and Hokuto shivers, pressing closer to feel more, as much as he can, until his body is aligned with Fujigaya’s and their legs tangle together.

All too soon he forgets how to breathe and has to pull back, which is when he notices that he’s looking down at Fujigaya, whom he’d lowered onto Yokoo’s couch. “Sorry.”

Fujigaya just smiles at him, his lips shiny from kissing. “You’re aggressive, aren’t you?”

“I guess so.” Hokuto tucks his head in to hide his face, leaning his forehead against Fujigaya’s shoulder. This has the added effect of breathing in his scent, and he relaxes when fingers comb through his hair. “Feels nice.”

“You want to see what else feels nice?” Fujigaya asks, his voice deepening as those fingers drop to Hokuto’s waist, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah,” Hokuto replies, scooting up to press his lips to Fujigaya’s neck. “Show me, senpai.”

He shivers when Fujigaya’s touch slips under his shirt, light and teasing as it travels up his side like his intent is to make Hokuto shiver. It works, making Hokuto exhale in a huff against Fujigaya’s neck, which Fujigaya seems to like judging by the way the older man shifts beneath him. The touch continues around Hokuto’s front, tracing his ribs and the muscles of his abdomen that are just starting to become defined before heading up.

The first brush of his nipple has him shuddering like he’d been electrocuted, pressing a small moan into Fujigaya’s throat that has him squirming some more. “You like that?” Fujigaya asks, now barely a whisper, and Hokuto nods. Fujigaya uses a little more pressure, making Hokuto twitch, and adds, “How about that?”

“Yeah,” Hokuto answers, surprised at his own voice that reverberates inside his head. “Should I do this to you?”

“Not yet,” Fujigaya answers, and Hokuto keeps his hands at his sides. “By all means, touch me if you want to, but I’ll just get distracted if you do that, because I  _really_  like it.”

“Noted,” Hokuto says, trying not to appear too anxious as he finally gets his hands on Fujigaya’s skin. He starts on the sides, feeling Fujigaya’s own ribs before moving around to his back. Fujigaya’s muscles feel perfect under his fingers and he just wants to squeeze them all, especially with the way Fujigaya arches beneath him at the touch.

Hokuto’s moaning outright by the time Fujigaya abandons his nipples, drifting back down over his navel and abdomen to where he’s about to burst out of his pants with how hard he is. Fujigaya has to be able to feel it digging into his thigh, so desperate for friction that Hokuto’s hips are rolling a little, grinding against him. Hokuto is so charged up and  _hot_  that he can’t stop himself from moving, even when Fujigaya’s hands seize his hips.

“Slow down, Hokuto-kun, or you’re not gonna make it to the good part,” Fujigaya says quietly, chuckling when Hokuto whines. “You don’t want to finish like this, do you?”

Hokuto shakes his head, leaving his mouth closer to Fujigaya’s throat that he finally indulges in tasting. Fujigaya leans back, giving him more access, and Hokuto mouths every piece of skin he can reach, noticing how Fujigaya jerks when he catches the adam’s apple in motion. “I wanna touch you now,” he says, sounding more authoritative than he feels, and suddenly he sees what Fujigaya had meant by aggressive.

“I’m not stopping you,” Fujigaya says, lifting his arms over his head invitingly, and the next words out of his mouth have Hokuto’s breath hitching: “Undress me.”

Suddenly Hokuto feels like it’s his birthday all over again, except that this is a very adult present he’s opening as he carefully pushes Fujigaya’s shirt up and over his head. He’s helped other juniors change costumes before, but this is nothing like that. He almost feels selfish, because this is all for him to touch and taste as he pleases, licking his lips as he takes in Fujigaya’s bare chest and collarbone.

“Hokuto-kun,” Fujigaya breathes. “Don’t let me get cold.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hokuto replies, splaying both hands on Fujigaya’s shoulders and pushing down. Fujigaya’s skin quivers under his fingers, a beautiful noise sounding from his lungs when he makes contact with a nipple. On impulse he follows with his mouth, licking the bud that quickly hardens along with something else that presses into Hokuto’s stomach.

“Senpai,” Hokuto gasps, and Fujigaya must really like how that sounds because he rocks up and moans. Or it could just be Hokuto’s breath on his nipple, wet with saliva; Hokuto blows out cold air to discover it’s the latter.

“Keep going,” Fujigaya encourages, lifting a shaky hand to run through Hokuto’s hair again. “You’re doing  _very_  well.”

The praise goes right between Hokuto’s legs, which becomes more constricted as he slides down Fujigaya’s torso and fumbles to open the other man’s pants. It’s awkward doing this to someone else, but mouthing at Fujigaya’s hot skin makes it easier, especially since Fujigaya’s noises get louder the closer Hokuto’s lips get to his hands. Hokuto knows why, and while he’s not sure if he can do that even for his favorite senpai, it doesn’t stop him from continuing all the way to Fujigaya’s hip, swirling his tongue along the bone as he pushes down Fujigaya’s jeans and underwear.

“Hokuto, ah,” Fujigaya gasps, and the sudden drop of honorific tells Hokuto how turned on he is. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? Because you’re really good at teasing.”

“I hear that at work all the time,” Hokuto tells him, feeling more ornery as Fujigaya writhes below him. “I guess it carries over to this, too.”

He eyes Fujigaya’s cock, thick and curved as it rests on a nest of dark curls. It twitches from Hokuto’s breath, pulling another moan from Fujigaya that sounds so far away with Hokuto’s head lying on his hip. “Please touch me,” Fujigaya’s voice drifts down, a little whiny. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Hokuto slowly drags a finger up the length and revels in the noise he earns, doing it again before coiling his fingers around the thick flesh. It’s so different than touching his own, though the dimensions are mostly the same. He can’t feel the immediate reactions, but he likes watching Fujigaya fall apart beneath him, from his own hands.

He gets a good grip and snaps his wrist, sending Fujigaya into a higher octave as he jerks him slowly but firmly. He thinks about kissing his way back up Fujigaya’s torso, back into his mouth, but he also wants to stay down here, curious eyes on the head of Fujigaya’s cock and how it glistens with a small bead of fluid on the upstroke. He really wants to lick it, to see what it tastes like and how Fujigaya will react, the fear of being bad at it waning in favor of his urge to do it.

When he finally leans forward, lapping at that bead of fluid and then the rest of the head, Fujigaya nearly chokes on his air and sinks a hand into Hokuto’s hair. “You don’t have to do this,” he gets out, but his fingers betray his words by twisting in the locks, making it clear that he wants Hokuto to stay right where he is.

Instead of replying verbally, Hokuto sucks a little bit into his mouth, tasting more of that bitterness as another drop hits the back of his tongue. It’s bigger than he expected, but he can wrap his lips around it well enough, though he doesn’t think he can go too deep. Instinctively, he uses his hand to make up the difference, which Fujigaya seems to have absolutely no problem with judging by the way he moans and tightens his fingers in Hokuto’s hair.

“Hokuto,” Fujigaya gasps. “If you don’t want me to come, you need to stop.”

That has Hokuto feeling  _really_  good, heightened by the rough pulling of his hair that has him moving faster. He can feel Fujigaya trembling beneath him and cannot begin to understand the euphoria he feels from being here with him like this, being responsible for pushing him over the edge, sucking down the hot release that pumps into his mouth following a sharp cry of his name.

Strong arms lift him up, a hot mouth devouring his and tasting himself on Hokuto’s tongue, and Hokuto loses himself in the kiss until Fujigaya’s hands drop to his belt and he remembers how worked up he is. “Ah, now you have to be the one to have me. You think you can do that?”

The question almost goes over Hokuto’s head, but he catches it at the last second and nearly chokes. “You want me to do that to you?” he squeaks out, not even caring enough to be embarrassed by his voice.

“You have to learn somehow,” Fujigaya tells him, now curling fingers around his cock and the idea becomes much more appealing. “What kind of senpai would I be if I didn’t show you the most important part?”

Hokuto struggles to remember how to make words. “Okay.”

Fujigaya makes it easy, coating Hokuto’s fingers with a slippery substance and spreading his legs invitingly, staring up at him with dark, dark eyes from beneath a fringe of bangs. “You may want to take your clothes off first.”

His face heating up at the obvious step he’d missed, Hokuto rushes to pull his shirt over his head and shove his pants down with one hand. His anxiety channels into arousal when Fujigaya’s hands are instantly on his skin, sending little trails of heat coursing through his body before thumbing at his nipples.

“Come here, I’ll talk you through it,” Fujigaya says, urging Hokuto forward so that he can speak right into Hokuto’s ear. That makes him shiver even more, but Fujigaya just chuckles and keeps talking in this sinfully low voice. “Put your hand between my legs and feel out my rim. You’ll know when you find it.”

Hearing him say the words has Hokuto even more turned on, following instructions and jumping along with Fujigaya when his fingertips brush the wrinkled muscle. Curiously he traces it, amazed at the way it contracts under his touch, then notices how it loosens with each circle Hokuto makes around it.

Fujigaya’s moan is nothing but encouraging, his hands moving to Hokuto’s shoulders to squeeze them like he were giving the younger man a backrub. “Good, so good. Now start to put your middle finger inside, but not too fast. It’ll get tight, but if you go slowly I’ll open up for you.”

Hokuto chokes on his affirmative noise as he does what Fujigaya says, and now he’s enticed at how hot Fujigaya is inside. The muscles don’t seem to like him one bit, but Fujigaya inhales sharply and exhales with a moan, which is enough for Hokuto to keep going. He gets his whole finger inside and moves it around, pushing it in and out until it gets easier to move.

“You’re a natural at this,” Fujigaya says with a bit of a laugh. “I’m starting to think you made all of this virgin stuff up just to fuck me.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” Hokuto breathes out, his own voice raspy and near unrecognizable. “I didn’t even think I would—that is, I thought you would…to me.”

Fujigaya lets out a long groan at that, but all he does is sift his fingers through Hokuto’s hair and guide him up for a kiss. “As much as I want to do that, isn’t it better this way? You should save that first for someone you really like. Put in another finger now.”

The words are still processing in Hokuto’s mind as his body acts without active cognition, his pointer finger joining the first and this time Fujigaya arches so much that his back leaves the couch, hips rocking back to take the fingers in deeper. Hokuto likes that, a lot, exploring the different ways to move his fingers inside Fujigaya that have him pushing back against them.

He makes contact with something that has Fujigaya tightening considerably and Fujigaya falls from his mouth, tossing his head back and exposing his throat for Hokuto’s viewing pleasure. “Right there, Hokuto. Touch me there.”

Hokuto couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, feeling how Fujigaya’s body constricts and expands at the same time, writhing beneath him with each curl of his fingers. He could probably do this all day, just to watch Fujigaya twist and gasp, to see how much he likes it and how much he wants more when Hokuto tests the waters by trailing his ring finger along the rim, silently asking permission.

“Yes, yes,” Fujigaya answers out loud, nodding so hard that he almost hits Hokuto in the face. “Please keep going. It feels so good.”

This time Hokuto moans, pressing his lips to Fujigaya’s throat and chasing the tempting adam’s apple as he pushes in the third finger. “I want you so badly,” he mutters against the hot skin.

“Almost,” Fujigaya says, his tone promising, though his body is much more resistant now. Hokuto can tell that the older man is trying to relax and makes his own effort to go slowly, applying pressure to that spot Fujigaya likes so much in hopes that it’ll help. “Oh, yes, just like that.”

Hokuto feels like the world’s best lover as Fujigaya’s muscles start to loosen, and he hasn’t even entered him yet. He will soon enough, his blood running hot through his veins at the realization, cock hard and more than ready to be encased inside someone for the first time. His three fingers move in and out of Fujigaya easily enough now, and Hokuto’s hips snap at the thought of feeling that around his length, fucking his senpai into his other senpai’s couch and finally letting his aggression take over.

“Now,” Fujigaya says, reaching down to tug at Hokuto’s wrist and grab Hokuto by the cock, swallowing his yelp of surprise as Fujigaya rolls a condom onto him, followed by more of the slippery stuff. “Get inside me.”

It’s instinctual, the way Hokuto kneels between Fujigaya’s legs and pushes in, a low groan rumbling from his own throat as he feels the hot tightness all around him. Strong hands clutch onto his arms, a deep voice hissing that he’s doing well, go ahead and move, it feels good, and Hokuto loops his arms around Fujigaya’s broad shoulders to hold on as he starts rolling his hips. Fujigaya’s making beautiful noises, ones that fuel Hokuto to move faster, deeper, with sharper thrusts that have Fujigaya tossing his head back and arching like he’s in an AV movie.

“Senpai,” Hokuto whispers, his voice trembling as much as his body, “I’m not going to last much longer. It’s…it’s too good.”

“That’s okay,” Fujigaya tells him, those fingers returning to his hair. “You’re doing so well. Give it to me hard, Hokuto-kun. Show me how much you want me.”

Hokuto moans out loud, pressing his face into Fujigaya’s throat to muffle the noises. He supposes he doesn’t need to, since they’re alone, but it’s a habit. His skin breaks out in a sweat and he grabs onto Fujigaya more tightly, equally torn between racing toward his orgasm and holding back.

“Mm, feels good,” Fujigaya gets out, rocking his own hips up to take Hokuto in even deeper. “Come for me, kouhai.”

After that, nothing could stop Hokuto from following orders. He lets out a long groan and thrusts until he’s hit with a rush, a million times more intense than anything he’s ever done to himself. Fujigaya wraps his arms around Hokuto and holds him through it, keeping him grounded even when his mind wants to disappear completely. It’s over entirely too fast, but his skin is still tingling from head to toe as he realizes that he’s collapsed on top of Fujigaya and scrambles to get up.

“Hey, it’s okay, relax,” Fujigaya stops him, hands all over him, and it takes him even higher. “That was  _so_  good, Hokuto-kun. You’re my favorite kouhai.”

Hokuto grins, feeling like he’s blushing all over, but that could just be from the orgasm. “I’m glad.”

Fujigaya doesn’t make him move right away, leaning up to capture Hokuto’s lips in a lazy post-coital kiss that seems to last forever. When they finally detangle, Hokuto only feels a little bit uncomfortable at how casual it is. Not that he wanted it to be anything else, but well, what he’d just experienced was rather intimate for an extracurricular lesson.

Before they part at Yokoo’s door, Fujigaya lifts Hokuto’s chin to meet his eyes, cheeks still flushed. “Now go find someone you like and show him everything you’ve learned.”

Hokuto just nods, even though he doesn’t have anyone in mind.

*

Everything changes. Hokuto didn’t think it would, because usually having sex for the first time isn’t really anything more than bragging rights, or at least that’s what everyone else says, but Hokuto notices an extreme difference in the way he feels now. He can’t really put a name on it, aside from being unsatisfied, which doesn’t make any sense at all.

“So go fuck someone else,” Juri says helpfully, jerking around a controller on his bedroom floor. “It’s not like there’s a shortage of ass in our line of work.”

Hokuto makes a face, mostly because it’s true. “That’s not what I want. Fujigaya-senpai told me to find someone I like. I don’t like anyone. I don’t even know if I could like a boy like that.”

“Fujigaya-senpai is a hopeless romantic,” Juri informs him. “You don’t need feelings to have sex, Hokku.”

“You say that like you’ve had more than that prostitute,” Hokuto points out.

“She wasn’t a prostitute!” Juri exclaims, though he looks more frustrated with the zombies on the screen than Hokuto’s accusation. “And for your information, I have.”

“Have what?” Hokuto asks, focusing on the zombies.

“Had more than her.”

Hokuto snaps his head towards Juri, who purses his lips. “You never told me that.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything,” Juri says, then sighs. “It wasn’t the best experience.”

“Who was it?” Hokuto leans over to nudge Juri’s shoulder, a giant grin on his face. “Girl? Guy?”

“If it was a girl, I wouldn’t have had any reason to keep it from you,” Juri grumbles.

“Tell me~” Hokuto sing-songs. “Was it another junior? A senpai? Someone from  _Bakaleya_? Taiga?”

Juri elbows him in the side, hard, and Hokuto gasps.

“It  _was_  Taiga!” Hokuto frowns. “Damn, he gets around. Am I missing out on something good here? Maybe I should go to him, too.”

Now Juri looks angry, which confuses Hokuto until Juri flicks him right in the middle of his forehead. “ _I did not have sex with Taiga_.”

“Who then?” Hokuto puts on his best pout. “I told you all about mine.”

Juri rolls his eyes. “It was YasuKen, okay. We were drinking—don’t you dare tell anyone he gave me liquor—and it just happened. I didn’t really like it, but it wasn’t bad or anything.”

“Which way did you do it?” Hokuto asks curiously, and Juri gives him a pointed look. “Ah, okay. I don’t know what that’s like.”

“It’s…” Juri trails off, squirming as he presumably thinks of the right words. “Invasive. Uncomfortable. Kind of painful if you don’t take the time to, you know, prepare well enough.”

Hokuto nods. “Senpai showed me how to do all of that. He said I was really good at it. Didn’t believe I was a virgin.”

Juri snorts. “You probably had the best deflowering in the entire world. You’re fucking welcome.”

“Thank you~” Hokuto drawls out, flopping onto Juri’s shoulder and staying there when Juri doesn’t push him away. “I’m sorry yours was bad. Maybe it was the alcohol?”

“It definitely was,” Juri says, and Hokuto can feel the depth of his voice through his skin. “Yasui felt awful about it afterwards, but the damage was done. We’re still cool, but we don’t talk about it.”

Hokuto hums in understanding, feeling oddly comfortable as Juri brings an arm up to sling loosely around Hokuto’s shoulders. It should be awkward because Hokuto’s so much taller than him, but somehow they fit together like this. Hokuto doesn’t mind it at all; in fact, it’s kind of nice.

A blink later, his heart is thumping faster and he becomes very aware of Juri right next to him, the heat of Juri’s small body warming his side. “Hey,” he says out loud, because he has no reason to be nervous around this one, not at all.

“Hmm?” Juri replies, sounding like he isn’t bothered in the slightest by sitting like this, even though there’s nothing on the TV but his paused game.

“You could try again,” Hokuto offers, leaning his head up to press his nose into Juri’s throat, breathing in the rather intoxicating scent of Juri’s cologne and laundry soap. “Maybe the second time’s a charm.”

“With you?” Juri asks incredulously, like the possibility had just occurred to him, and it probably had. It had certainly just occurred to Hokuto. “You want to?”

“Sure, why not?” Hokuto replaces his nose with his mouth and feels Juri twitch from the contact. “You don’t want to?”

“Well,  _now_  I do,” Juri mutters, turning enough to wrap both arms around Hokuto’s shoulders and making a very enticing noise when Hokuto drags his lips up Juri’s neck to his jaw. “Are you sure you want to do that with me?”

“Positive,” Hokuto answers, and Juri turns his head just as Hokuto lifts his. Their lips meet and while it’s a little off-centered, they quickly work it out and Hokuto’s mind spins even more than the last time. Juri’s not a great kisser by any means, inexperienced and sloppy, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm and Hokuto grabs his face to hold him still, showing him how to do it properly by demonstration.

It’s still fast-paced and heated, but Hokuto doesn’t expect any less from someone his own age who’s just as excited as he is about trying new things. While Fujigaya had been inclined to let Hokuto learn for himself what he likes, Juri’s hands are all over him so fast that Hokuto doesn’t have time to focus on one part before Juri touches him somewhere else. It’s thrilling and unpredictable and Hokuto loves it, his own hands smoothing the tense muscles of Juri’s shoulders while Juri’s go from arms to chest to legs and back up again. The only frustrating thing is that Hokuto can barely feel it through his clothes.

The next second has Hokuto on his back, laid out on Juri’s bedroom floor with one leg bent and the other trapped between Juri’s thighs. It takes his brain a bit to catch up, but by the time it does he’s already stretched out beneath Juri, hands lowering to Juri’s lower back as the other man swings a leg across Hokuto’s lap to straddle him properly. This lines up their erections and they both groan, Hokuto following with a shocked gasp as Juri starts grinding against him shamelessly, and Hokuto’s hands drop that remaining distance to grab onto Juri’s ass, guiding him as his own hips rock up in contrast.

The realization that Juri is as hard as he is blows his mind; of course he would be, if they were going to do this together, but nothing compares to actually feeling it. Juri, his friend, is hard for him,  _because_  of him. It makes Hokuto even hotter for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, but he’s not exactly in a place to ponder the meaning of anything with Juri’s cock rubbing against his, the friction of his jeans against Juri’s sweatpants making it better and worse for both of them, he’s sure.

Then Juri lets out a filthy noise and Hokuto’s fingers tighten, responding with a noise of his own when Juri’s hands slide up his shirt. “Off,” Juri snaps, his voice lower than usual and a little breathy.

Hokuto detaches his hands from Juri’s ass to yank his shirt over his head, finishing in time to watch Juri do the same. He appreciates the motion of it, even if it’s the most rushed striptease in the world, but Hokuto’s not really inclined to wait to palm Juri’s chest from abdomen to collarbones, feeling the skin taut under his hands.

It’s the first time they’ve looked at each other since they started this, and Hokuto feels something twist inside him at Juri’s flushed face, hooded eyes, and wet, kiss-swollen lips. It’s not entirely sexual, even when Juri darts out his tongue to lick his lips, and Hokuto’s struggling to make sense of it in the haze of his brain.

“We should, um, get stuff,” Juri says, and it would be awkward if he wasn’t physically shaking with arousal while continuing a slow roll of his hips on top of Hokuto. “Do you have stuff?”

“I have stuff,” Hokuto supplies, surprised at the depth of his own voice. “Fujigaya-senpai gave me some to keep on me.”

“Best senpai,” Juri breathes out, then leans down to press a searing kiss to Hokuto’s lips. He learns quickly, it seems. “Please be gentle with me.”

“We should move up to the bed,” Hokuto says, though he doesn’t make an effort to let go of Juri now that the smaller man is back in his arms. “Isn’t your room right above the kitchen?”

“Laundry room,” Juri corrects, “and it’s not laundry day.”

That’s enough logic for Hokuto to stay right where he is, resigning himself to a sore back if Juri plans on maintaining this position. “Do you want to do it like this?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Juri answers, sounding like he’d just considered it for the first time. “Maybe it will be better if I control the movements.”

“Whatever you want,” Hokuto says, nearly taken off guard when his words are followed by Juri’s tongue in his mouth, escalating the heat surging through his body as both sets of hands fumble to unfasten each other’s pants and shove them down.

Juri’s bare thighs feel much better in his hands than sweatpants material, his touch roaming now that there’s nothing but warm skin for his perusal. He feels Juri’s muscles shudder beneath his fingertips and gasps when their cocks bump, both hard and leaking. Hokuto had set aside the condom and small tube of lubrication he’d received as a parting gift, now reluctant to let go of Juri long enough to reach for them.

“You really are a fucking tease,” Juri hisses, and Hokuto can’t help but smile as Juri huffs and grabs the lube himself. “I thought you were bad enough on stage.”

“At least I’m consistent,” Hokuto replies, a little enamored by the way Juri applies the substance to his fingers. It’s much more thorough than Fujigaya had done it; Hokuto figures Juri wants to make sure he doesn’t get hurt again. As if Hokuto would let that happen.

Juri inhales sharply as Hokuto trails the slick fingers up the back of his thigh, his body practically trembling. “Hey, it’s okay,” Hokuto whispers, using his other hand to stroke the length of Juri’s spine with his knuckles. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can just fool around.”

“We’ve already come this far,” Juri protests, and his body jerks for a different reason when Hokuto makes contact with his rim. He spreads his legs wider in absolute consent to everything, and Hokuto’s even more turned on by the submission. “Do it.”

“I’m not putting anything anywhere if you don’t relax,” Hokuto says, sounding as stern as he can manage. He brings his free hand around Juri’s waist to wrap around the other man’s cock, pulling a beautiful moan from his throat. “Does this help?”

“Yeah, feels good,” Juri replies, hips rocking into the funnel of Hokuto’s hand while Hokuto slips his middle finger through the tight muscle. “ _Oh_.”

“Okay?” Hokuto asks, noticing how Juri’s rhythm falters as Hokuto tries to stretch him enough for a second, groaning when Juri’s body squeezes around him in protest. “You feel amazing.”

Juri just grunts, and Hokuto tries to distract him by jerking him harder, which has Juri fusing their mouths together in the hottest kiss thus far. Hokuto gets in a second finger, then a third, curling them to find that spot that has Juri clutching onto him in shocked pleasure, which quickly becomes a whine when Hokuto recognizes the disjointed way Juri’s thrusting into his hand and instantly lets go. “ _Hokku_ , I was about to finish.”

“I know,” Hokuto says apologetically, though he doesn’t mind the way Juri says his name like that one bit. “Can you wait until I’m inside you? I didn’t get to feel it that way before, and I really want to.”

Juri grumbles some more, but all he does is snatch the condom and start to open it. “I’m gonna ride you so hard.”

“Please,” Hokuto says as he helpfully holds his own cock up for Juri to sheath. It’s the first time Juri’s touched him and it feels good, a moan making Juri take him in his hand even after the condom is rolled on. “Put some more lube on it, just to be safe.”

“It’s already better than the last time,” Juri tells him, but squirts more lube into his hands anyway. Hokuto arches as Juri coats him, lingering to explore the shape and thickness in his hand, and Hokuto makes it until Juri gently pinches the tip before moaning. “You look so good like this.”

“Juri, please,” Hokuto says again, and Juri’s eyes darken as he reaches down to tug on Hokuto’s wrist, effectively pulling the fingers out. He hovers over Hokuto’s cock, which is in his own hand to guide it inside him while Hokuto watches with a mixture of awe and arousal. “Shit.”

“Ah,” Juri gets out, sounding like it was forced all the way out from deep in his lungs, and Hokuto rests his hands on Juri’s thighs for lack of a better place. He finds them trembling, even after he splays his fingers out, and uses his thumbs to rub the inner muscles in the most comforting way he can think of.

He bottoms out rather suddenly and they both pop open their eyes; Juri looks a little like an animated character, but Hokuto doesn’t dare laugh. He’s doing well enough to keep still, holding back the urge to rock his hips up into Juri like every ounce of his body wants to, and he doesn’t realize how hard he’s gripping Juri’s thighs until he notices his knuckles paling.

“Okay,” Juri says, more to himself than to Hokuto, but Hokuto nods anyway. “It’s okay.”

Hokuto’s not sure what’s okay—Juri’s still tight as fuck, but the lubrication would allow Hokuto to move regardless. He looks fucking great, though not in a conventional AV movie way, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon and his eyes still bigger than Hokuto’s ever seen them, even when Shintaro would scare the shit out of him just to make him scream like a girl.

“You feel incredible,” Hokuto whispers. He’s running out of words to use to mean the same thing, but Juri doesn’t look like he cares one bit as he hides a smile. “You don’t have to move until you’re ready, okay? Or I can do it, if you want.”

“You could…try,” Juri says, sounding sheepish like asking Hokuto to fuck him is worse than actually doing it. “Just not too hard, at first.”

“Of course,” Hokuto answers, then licks his lips as he gears up for a thrust that he’s going to have to halt after one. He pins down Juri’s thighs with his hands and slowly scoots them back, enough for his cock to pull out about halfway, then he snaps his hips and moans out loud at the way Juri’s body hugs him even after he’s done moving.

Juri’s mouth is open, his eyes still wide. “That—that was good. You can do that again.”

“Thank god,” Hokuto gasps as he does exactly that, only he doesn’t stop this time. He keeps it slow, for Juri’s sake and for the sake of his own back, which is already feeling the burn from the carpet. Hopefully he doesn’t have to do anymore skanky low-rise shots from the back with Jesse for a while. The pain is barely noticeable over the pleasure, though, Juri’s body swallowing his cock over and over again as Juri’s hips start to move on their own.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” Juri says, and Hokuto scoffs because there’s not much that could make him stop right now, but then Juri’s matching his rhythm and for a few seconds it looks like he’s riding the wild bull at the rodeo before he falls forward to place both hands on Hokuto’s chest, bracing himself to push back with each of Hokuto’s thrusts.

He’s too far away to kiss and it’s too weird to look at each other, so Hokuto lifts a shaky hand to rake fingers through Juri’s dampening hair and Juri hangs his head to feel more of it. Hokuto wonders if Juri’s watching it, Hokuto’s cock disappearing into his own body over and over again, the concave of Hokuto’s abs that are getting more of a workout than during their most scandalous dance routine. Juri’s moving just as fast, but he doesn’t have the weight of another person on top of him either.

Hokuto plants his feet on the ground for more momentum and Juri instantly lets out a wail that’s too sudden to catch; Hokuto pauses for as long as it takes Juri to bury his face into Hokuto’s chest and push back, the new angle making his body tighten and throb even more. Hokuto brings his fist to his mouth, unable to hold back the moans as Juri moves faster, fucking himself on Hokuto’s cock that seems to be hitting him right where he wants it.

“Juri, slow down,” Hokuto hisses, thinking of all the nonsexy things he possibly can to keep from finishing. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“I do,” Juri says, yanking Hokuto’s hand away from his mouth to shove it between his own legs, and that settles that. Hokuto’s fingers wrap around Juri’s cock on their own, feeling it swell even more along with Juri’s gasps into their combined sweat pooling on his sternum, and he gets in a few good strokes before Juri’s tensing on top of him, coming in hot streams over his hand and onto his belly. His muscles also clamp down around Hokuto’s length, which makes it a few more thrusts before pulsing in orgasm, taking Hokuto’s energy and most of his coherence with it.

He’s still out of it when Juri rolls off of him, wincing in a way that pains Hokuto more than the rugburn that’s undoubtedly covering his lower back. He forces his eyes open, sees Juri in one piece, and leans up to grab Juri’s arm as the smaller man moves to get up. “You don’t have to leave so soon.”

“I feel gross,” Juri whines, but the way he flops down next to Hokuto is grateful, like he’d been looking for an excuse to lie here for a while longer.

“I’ll go get a washcloth in a second,” Hokuto tells him, still catching his breath as he rolls onto his side to pull Juri close to him. “Other than that, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Juri answers, his arms worming their way around Hokuto’s waist. He takes a deep breath and stops shaking, his heartbeat slowing down where Hokuto can feel it thumping against his chest. “I’m great. Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Hokuto says, inwardly thinking that’s the understatement of the century.

*

If there’s one thing Hokuto has learned in his eighteen years on this earth, it’s that living for the moment has its consequences. Sure, it feels good at the time, but there’s always a moment after that where you have to deal with the repercussions of your actions. Or the moment after. Or the next time they’re back at school and awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes because  _oh my god they had sex together_.

“What’s up with you two?” Shintaro finally asks at  _Shounen Club_  rehearsal. Hokuto wishes he could give the youngest member of their unofficial unit some credit and say it was out of concern, but Shintaro is easily annoyed and gets bent out of shape about the dumbest shit, like PMSing is part of his puberty. “You’ve barely spoken to each other all week. Are you fighting or something?”

“No,” they both mumble, though Hokuto does a better job of pretending to be surprised. He guesses he’s a decent actor after all.

He notices Taiga’s eyes widen suddenly and almost rolls his own at that one being the first to figure it out. Thankfully Taiga keeps his mouth shut, though he unceremoniously pulls Hokuto into an empty practice room with less stealth than someone with his expertise at sneaking around should have.

“You didn’t,” is all Taiga says, and Hokuto nods slowly. “ _Hokku_.”

“You should talk,” Hokuto snaps back, because it feels good to place the blame on someone else, and somehow it’s all Taiga’s fault anyway. “It’s not like you’ve never hooked up with someone in the agency.”

“Not someone I have to see every day!” Taiga hisses. “And certainly not someone who’s a good friend.”

“Isn’t that better?” Hokuto asks. “It’s just weird because it’s new. We’ll get used to it.”

“Are you going to do it again?” Taiga asks, folding his arms like the disapproving (yet hypocritical) senpai he is.

“I—that is, I don’t know,” Hokuto mumbles, scratching his head. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“Hokuto,” Taiga says sternly, grabbing Hokuto by the chin and forcing him to look up. “Do you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Hokuto answers honestly. “He’s my friend. We spent a lot of time together because we’re in the same class and our houses are close. But…”

“But?” Taiga prompts, not letting go of Hokuto’s stare.

Hokuto sighs. “But it was different,” he says, trying to form the words that have been swimming through his head all week. “I’ve only done it one other time, but that was completely casual. Senpai teaching kouhai, you know? I know you know.”

Taiga just snorts noncommittally. “And Juri?”

“Juri was different,” Hokuto repeats, and even the name feels weird on his tongue. “I don’t know if they’re feelings or what. I don’t understand that stuff. But it was nice.”

“Sex was nice,” Taiga reiterates, and Hokuto realizes how strange it sounds. “It’s not that complicated to like someone, Hokku. You just do.”

“How do you know?” Hokuto asks seriously, feeling like the most emotionally stunted guy on the planet. While everything else had matured early, clearly his heart hasn’t. “How do you know if that’s what it is?”

Taiga stares at him for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath. “I’ve had him, you know. Did he tell you? He probably wouldn’t—it was kind of humiliating for him. Great for me, though. Anyone who wants to beg for it and let me throw them around like a rag doll is fine.”

Hokuto’s heart drops into his stomach, his fists clenching before his brain processes the words. “What?” he hisses out through gritted teeth.

“Are you mad?” Taiga asks casually. “Do you want to kick my ass for treating him like that? What if I told you YasuKen was involved, too? The two of us ran a train on him, if you know what I mean. Slut loved every minute of it.”

He catches Hokuto by the wrist with strength Hokuto didn’t know he possessed, twisting Hokuto’s arm around his back and locking his head to keep him from moving. He hadn’t even thought about actually punching the other junior, though he very much wanted to.

“Calm down, it’s a lie,” Taiga whispers into Hokuto’s hair, loosening his grip when Hokuto suddenly falls lax. “Not a single word of it is true, I promise.”

All of that energy Hokuto had accumulated in anger fizzles out and leaves him shaking, grabbing onto Taiga’s arms for balance while he has this emotional breakdown or whatever it is. “Why would you even lie about that?!” he finally gets out.

“To prove to you that you like him,” Taiga answers, making no move to let go of Hokuto. If anything Taiga holds him closer, a comforting hug, which feels better than it should considering forty-five seconds ago he was trying to shove his fist through Taiga’s face. “From what I just saw in your eyes, it might even be more than that.”

Hokuto gives up all the fighting and arguing with himself and physically falls limp, leaning back against Taiga who manages to turn him around and pull him into a proper embrace. They’re about the same height, but it still feels nice to lean his forehead on Taiga’s shoulder, feeling comforting arms around him during what might be the most incredulous revelation of his life: he likes  _Juri_.

Said object of affection’s voice sounds from the doorway and Hokuto freezes, knowing what this looks like. Or rather, he’s seen enough high school dramas to know what this looks like. An uncomfortable silence follows the previously enthusiastic “There you are!”, during which Hokuto lifts his eyes to find Juri staring at the ground, much like he’s been all week.

“Choreographer-san is looking for Taiga,” Juri mumbles, then turns to leave.

The door closes and Hokuto squeezes his eyes shut, trying to erase the image of Juri’s disappointed face from his mind. “Why is my life so hard?”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think he likes you, too,” Taiga says, and Hokuto bangs his forehead against Taiga’s shoulder.

*

The biggest problem with having sex with Juri and the consequences thereof is that Juri is the one Hokuto goes to about basically everything. Like he’d told Taiga, they were in the same class and their houses are close, so even if they weren’t best friends they still spent a lot of time together. Juri was trustworthy, usually helpful, and most of all he didn’t make Hokuto feel like a moron for anything he might have on his mind, no matter how ridiculous.

Hokuto doesn’t even know what it means to be a ‘best friend’ anymore; his last one was Fuuma, and he’s barely talked to the guy since Fuuma has been in university. It’s not Fuuma’s fault, he knows, but it has him wondering if friendship is just temporary, something to pass the time while it’s convenient for both parties. It’s a rather depressing thought. Maybe it gets better with age and maturity, neither of which Hokuto has an abundance of even if he’s casted to play adult roles.

“Finally lost your V card, huh?” Fuuma greets him with a bro fist. He’s shooting pool at a local hangout, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth like he’s straight out of  _Gokusen_. Hokuto feels like he could be fired just for being here, even though it’s mostly school uniforms surrounding them and the owner regulates the alcohol pretty well.

“I didn’t know sex would come with all of this bullshit,” Hokuto grumbles, though he doesn’t really mean it. He doesn’t want Fuuma to act any higher and mightier than he usually does, like there were three years between them instead of only three months. It’s enough to separate them by an entire school year, though, which has made all the difference in the past.

“Sometimes it’s easier with girls,” Fuuma tells him with all of the authority a Keio boy should have, except that Hokuto would bet money that Fuuma’s popularity with women has more to do with his career than his education. “There are a lot of annoying feelings involved, sure, but at least you know that’s what they are. With guys, especially friends, that line is blurred.”

That actually makes a hell of a lot of sense. Except that Hokuto’s not attracted to women. “Is liking a friend such a bad thing?” he asks, and maybe he values Fuuma’s opinion after all, still a best friend to him after all this time.

Fuuma shoots a ball and misses spectacularly, but you wouldn’t know it with as haughtily as he stands up and leans against the table. “Not if you’re both clear on what it is. But to be honest, at our age nothing is really forever, is it?”

Hokuto blinks as he grabs a cue and leans down to shoot. His ball goes in—he’s solids—and he takes another shot as he considers Fuuma’s words. “You really think so? Why bother then?”

“Because.” Fuuma waits for Hokuto to line up his shot before continuing. “It feels so good while it lasts.”

Naturally Hokuto misses the shot, leaving Fuuma snickering as he takes his turn and manages to sink in a stripe. Hokuto could give two shits about the game, though. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Just make sure you’ll still be friends even after the novelty wears off,” Fuuma warns him, with the air of someone who’s speaking from experience. “Especially if you’re in the same unit.”

“How can you just decide that so easily, though?” Hokuto asks. “Like ‘if this doesn’t work out, we both have to get over it and still get along’?”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Fuuma tells him, swearing as he misses another shot. “That’s why I’m telling you to be careful. Lewis seems like a kid who gets his heart broken easily. You don’t want to be that guy and then have to fanservice with him for the rest of your career.”

Hokuto blinks. “Lewis? What does Jesse have to do with this?”

“That’s who you’re all stupid about, isn’t it?” Fuuma asks, glancing up through his fringe of bangs to look at Hokuto’s undoubtedly confused face. “Who else would it be?”

Hokuto can’t help it—he bursts out laughing, nearly dropping the cue stick on the ground as he braces himself on the wooden edge of the pool table. “Oh my god, it’s not Jesse.”

He’s still laughing when Fuuma abandons the game and shoves Hokuto playfully. “It’s not Kyoumoto, is it? Because we’re filming right now and, well, let’s just say he’s not that monogamous.”

“You too?!” Hokuto exclaims. “Has everyone in the agency had a piece of him?”

“I don’t know about a piece, but the guy has a killer mouth,” Fuuma informs him, seeming to take great joy in the way Hokuto closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Yuugo then? I guess you two were always tight like that.”

Hokuto wrinkles his nose at the thought. Kouchi was also like an older brother to him, though not nearly as full of worldly advice as Fuuma. Hokuto figures he should save his friend from entertaining the possibility of Hokuto with Shintaro and says, “No, Fuuma, it’s Juri.”

“Oh.” Fuuma pauses, then nods. “I like him. He’s fun. You two would be cute together.”

“You think so?” Hokuto asks, his veins suddenly sizzling with energy.

“Shit, you’ve got it bad,” Fuuma says, staring at him. “You should see your face right now. You look like fucking Cinderella at the ball.”

“Well.” Hokuto shrugs. “If the glass slipper fits.”

Fuuma rolls his eyes and whacks Hokuto on the back with his cue, right where it still stings from the carpet burn. “Go get your prince already, will you? And don’t be such a goddamn stranger. I miss kicking your ass in pool.”

“I was winning, but whatever.” Hokuto flashes a grin and grabs for his school bag. “You’re the one with the schedule, so hit me up when you’re free.”

“Maybe we can double,” Fuuma says with a wink, and Hokuto decides he can wait for  _that_  story after he gets a happy ending to his own.

*

Something high school dramas have taught Hokuto is that waiting around and angsting never does anybody any good. Something real life has taught Hokuto is that you have to go after what you want, and fiercely. Both of these lessons have Hokuto on Juri’s doorstep at 9pm on a school night, never mind that Hokuto had just seen him a couple hours ago at rehearsal, never mind that he hasn’t even been able to look at Juri since he walked out this exact same door almost a week ago.

Juri’s little brother answers the door, buying Hokuto some more time before he has to face the inevitable. He may not be shy, but only because he’d rather confront his fears than let them consume him. And while he’s not worried about any permanent damage to their friendship or careers, right now he’s terrified that he’s about to get rejected.

“Take a walk with me?” he asks when Juri appears, eyes cast downward.

“Sure,” Juri answers, the first word he’s spoken to Hokuto aside from obligatory work comments, and he hollers to whoever’s inside that he’s going out and he’ll be back.

Walking side by side means that they don’t have to look at each other, which makes the atmosphere much more tolerable as they head towards the unspoken destination of the neighborhood park. It’s mainly a playground, but it’s late enough for the kids to be inside getting ready for bed. It’s also incredibly warm, the dead of summer that has even Hokuto’s summer uniform feeling constricting, and a glance towards Juri shows him just as uncomfortable.

Regardless, Hokuto takes a seat on a swing and smiles when Juri joins him. The higher he gets, the braver he feels, until he looks over to find Juri even higher, his lighter weight giving him an advantage.

“I like you,” Hokuto says out loud, and Juri’s legs stop moving. The swing keeps going, but Juri’s not giving it anymore momentum. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just kind of figured it out.”

“How do you know?” Juri answers, staring straight ahead toward the neighborhood houses and their scattered porch lights. “How do you know that’s how you feel?”

Hokuto blinks and remembers that Juri doesn’t have the luxury of a support team, or at least he’s not usually willing to share all of his business to anyone who will listen. The closest friend he has is Shintaro, and there’s no way anyone was talking about this kind of stuff to that kid for at least another year.

“I think it’s because I don’t want to be with anyone else, and I don’t want you to be with anyone else either,” he finally says, swinging faster because it makes this easier.

“I got upset when I saw you with Taiga,” Juri admits, and Hokuto can see how hard it is for him to volunteer his feelings like this. “I know you weren’t doing anything like that, because we are not in a high school drama, but I still wished that I could be the one to, you know. Hug you and stuff. Even if it was because of me that you needed the comfort.”

Hokuto can’t hold back his smile, feeling warm in a way that has nothing to do with the weather. “Does that mean you like me, too?”

“I don’t know,” Juri answers. His swing is quickly slowing to a stop. “All I know is that after you left that night, I felt really weird about it. Like I wanted to do it again, but I wanted to do more than that. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Hokuto’s mother is going to kill him for getting dirt on his uniform pants, but that doesn’t stop him from digging his heels into the ground to abruptly stop his swing. The inertia keeps him moving, and he swings out to the side to grab the chain of Juri’s swing, pulling them both in the middle.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Hokuto asks, staring right into Juri’s eyes, and Juri nods instantly. Hokuto uses his free hand to grab Juri’s face, pressing their mouths together so quickly that someone would have had to be ready with a camera at just the right angle in order to catch them, already deciding he doesn’t give a single fuck if anyone sees them.

It’s too fast and leaves him yearning for more, a tease after so long of nothing, and he can read Juri’s agreement on his face. Then Juri starts laughing, and Hokuto’s too relieved to think anything other than “What’s so funny?”

“We really are in a high school drama,” Juri says, and Hokuto shoves him away by the chains. Juri swings back towards him, the pair of them laughing and bumping into each other until Juri knocks Hokuto right off of the swing. Now his mother really is going to kill him for getting covered in dirt, but none of that matters because Juri lands right on top of him.

“You’re supposed to fall on my mouth,” Hokuto informs him, and Juri rolls his eyes before leaning down for a kiss. This one is dangerously longer, though they’re far enough from the closest lamp that it would look to any passersby that they were fighting instead of making out.

It’s Hokuto who stops it before it goes too far, in public at least, and Juri reluctantly rolls to the side and pulls his knees to his chest. He doesn’t seem to notice the dirt on his uniform at all. “So we’re going to do this?” he asks, a little out of breath. Hokuto can’t look away from him.

Hokuto answers by reaching for Juri’s hand, lacing their fingers together between them. Juri squeezes his hand a little too hard and Hokuto can see the nervousness in his eyes, because having sex isn’t nearly as scary as starting an actual relationship. “I like you,” Hokuto says again.

“I like you, too,” Juri replies, his cheeks turning pink, and Hokuto already knows he’ll treasure this memory forever, no matter what.

“Let’s go,” Hokuto suggests, though he’s not quick to let go of Juri’s hand even after they stand up. “We need to go someplace where I can kiss you properly.”

“My house is closer,” Juri offers, but Hokuto shakes his head. “No? It’s so late…”

Hokuto takes a deep breath, more worried about his wallet than what he’s about to say. “We could go to a love hotel.”

Juri’s already nodding before Hokuto looks at his face, and it’s Juri who drags Hokuto to the closest one. Ordering a room is one of the most embarrassing things Hokuto has ever done, just because there’s a girl behind the counter. She doesn’t appear to be a Johnny’s fan, at least; all she does is check his I.D., take his money, and give him a key.

All he knows about love hotels is what he’s seen on TV, but their room isn’t anything like that. No heart-shaped bed, no kinky themes. Just a bed, a couple of chairs, and a TV on top of a dresser, like any other hotel room. Then again, Hokuto had asked for the lowest rate possible, so maybe this is all you get. That’s really all he needs, especially with the way Juri manhandles him across the room.

“You’re suddenly so aggressive,” Hokuto breathes out, his heart beating in his throat.

“Sorry,” Juri replies, though he doesn’t look that sorry as he shoves them down onto the bed. “Last time I was really scared. I’m more confident now.”

“I like it,” Hokuto tells him, and Juri fuses their mouths together. “Keep doing it.”

Juri lets out a low moan in response, his body covering Hokuto’s rather nicely, though this time Hokuto’s legs fall open to nestle Juri between them, pressing them closer together. Hokuto remembers what Fujigaya had said about saving that part of himself for someone he likes and noses at Juri’s cheek to break their kiss, smiling when Juri huffs in annoyance.

“You have me this time, okay?” Hokuto whispers, and Juri’s breath hitches. “Please?”

“For you to ask me that so politely…” Juri starts, fists clutching Hokuto’s thin short-sleeved uniform shirt. “Yes.”

Hokuto untucks Juri’s shirt from his pants and starts unbuttoning it from the bottom. Once open, he splays his hands on Juri’s chest, feeling the warmth under his fingertips once again, mapping out every inch and paying attention to what spots make Juri jerk on top of him. Meanwhile Juri’s still fumbling with Hokuto’s buttons, his confidence faltering after Hokuto’s request, and Hokuto reaches down to start in on Juri’s belt.

“Wait,” Juri hisses, and it’s Hokuto’s turn to whine as Juri leans up and over toward the regular-looking nightstand. “If this place doesn’t have it…whoa.”

Juri’s eyes are so big that Hokuto pushes himself up onto his elbows, stretching his neck enough to look in the drawer, and his jaw drops a little at the variety of condoms and lube. “Well,” he says. “We certainly have our options here.”

“Which do you like better, strawberry or watermelon?” Juri asks seriously, holding up a tube of each, and Hokuto rolls his eyes.

“I don’t even care,” Hokuto replies. “If anyone would be close enough to tell the difference, it’d be you, so—”

He stops abruptly as he realizes what he just said, but Juri’s raising an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh really?”

Hokuto smacks him lightly on the arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Juri grabs a rather ambitious handful of supplies and dumps them unceremoniously onto the mattress before settling back between Hokuto’s legs, steady hands on the last of his shirt buttons before shoving the material to either side. “Do you want my tongue there, Hokuto?”

Something about the way Juri says his full first name has him moaning, hands returning to Juri’s pants. “I don’t know. Do guys like that?”

“What kind of porn have you been watching?” Juri asks with a scoff. “Remind me to show you some of the good stuff the next time you’re over.”

“And we’re alone,” Hokuto adds pointedly, and Juri doesn’t respond as he takes off the rest of Hokuto’s clothes. “Juri.”

“Yeah?” Juri’s looking at him in awe, like seeing Hokuto naked is something to gape at, and Hokuto inhales sharply under Juri’s dark eyes.

“Touch me,” Hokuto tells him.

He doesn’t have to say it twice. Juri’s hands are all over him, fingers drifting lightly but quickly over his chest and abs. Juri’s eyes are on his body but his eyes are on Juri, watching Juri watch him react to his touches with arches and quivers. Juri’s eyes lift to his when he brings his hands up, pinching both of Hokuto’s nipples. “Do you like this?”

“Yeah,” Hokuto answers, trailing his own fingers up the length of Juri’s cock. Juri shudders and glares at him, which makes him grin. “Remember who you’re in bed with. I’m the tease, right?”

“That better be all you are,” Juri grumbles, and Hokuto can almost see the possession streak through him. It’s  _hot_ , leaving Juri a little surprised when Hokuto flings an arm around his neck and pulls him down for a serious kiss. Juri moans into his mouth as their tongues tangle heatedly, hands tightening on each other as they rock together. Their erections bump and they both hiss, but Juri pulls back abruptly.

“What?” Hokuto asks, distracted by the dark flush in Juri’s cheeks and the way his lips shine. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Juri starts, then licks his lips as he leans back down. But instead of returning to Hokuto’s mouth, he kisses down Hokuto’s throat, which stretches to give him more to kiss, and down to his chest. Hokuto groans out loud when Juri licks his nipples, first one and then the other, Hokuto’s hand automatically lifting to thread in Juri’s short hair. “Just let me.”

Hokuto’s confused until Juri keeps going, lips dragging over Hokuto’s abdomen and over to his hips, small fingers wrapping around the base of his cock. It occurs to Hokuto real quick what Juri’s about to do, and while his first instinct is to stop him, at least check and make sure Juri really wants to do this, he knows damn well that there’s no stopping Juri on a mission. If Juri wants to suck him off, nobody is going to stand in his way.

“Juri,” Hokuto breathes, pushing Juri’s hair out of his face as Juri lowers his body further between Hokuto’s legs. “I’ve never had this before.”

“I know,” Juri says, speaking into Hokuto’s inner thigh and making him quiver even more. “I want all of your firsts. Whatever you have left, anyway.”

“They’re yours.” Hokuto tries to sit up on his elbows, but he can’t lift his head. He settles for continuing to pet Juri, not realizing he’s pushing him forward until Juri laughs and fights him. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Juri says, breath right on his cock, and Hokuto really wants to see his face, watch the length disappear past his lips. The want is strong enough to pull up his head, though it feels like a thousand pounds on his neck as he finally sits up, focusing his vision just in time to see Juri flick his tongue out to lick at the head.

“Fuck,” Hokuto hisses, arching from the small contact. “Now who’s a tease?”

“Hey, I haven’t done this before either,” Juri tells him. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it.”

“You don’t have to,” Hokuto says, gently cupping Juri’s jaw.

Juri leans into the touch, nuzzling his face against Hokuto’s palm, and it’s so sweet of a feeling even with Hokuto’s cock against his lips. “I want to.”

“Stubborn brat,” Hokuto mutters, but then Juri’s sucking him in very slowly, mouth stretching around the head and Hokuto loses his breath at the combination of sight and feeling. Juri makes it about halfway before it obviously becomes too much, which is when Hokuto guides him back and groans out, “Use your hand, too. Feels so good.”

And it does, Juri’s lips and mouth squeezing his hard flesh, the hot warmth much different than during sex. One hand tightens on Juri’s jaw, keeping him from going too deep while the other twists in the ugly bedspread. Juri’s fingers are wrapped around the base, stroking up as he sucks down, the contrast perfect. Hokuto moans again, fighting to keep his eyes open and trained on Juri, who occasionally looks up through his bangs. His eyes are so dark.

“Juri, damn,” Hokuto gets out, and it’s with much reluctance that he gently pushes Juri off of him. “I want you now.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” Juri says, looking a bit cocky as he kisses his way up Hokuto’s chest. “But I want you, too, so bad.”

They both fling an arm to the side and laugh when their hands collide, both landing on a tube and retrieving it together. It’s vanilla flavored, which pulls another laugh from each of them as they coat Juri’s fingers in a combined effort. Their mouths return to each other and this kiss is desperate, deep, and distracting as Juri’s hand trails down between Hokuto’s legs.

Hokuto lifts his knees helpfully, already feeling the strain in his thighs as Juri approaches his rim. Juri doesn’t hesitate, going right for the ring of muscle that constricts involuntarily despite Hokuto’s attempts to relax. He grabs onto Juri’s back to alleviate some of the pressure, which only works because Juri’s swirling his fingertip around the hole, getting Hokuto used to his touch. He’s not surprised that Juri knows just what to do, being on the other end in both favorable and unfavorable situations. Hokuto trusts him, immensely, spreading his legs as far as he can to make it easier.

Juri’s the one who lets out a noise when his finger pushes in, barely to the knuckle. He pauses long enough for Hokuto to nod, then goes in the rest of the way. Juri’s fingers aren’t that long, but it’s more than Hokuto’s ever had inside him and it feels both weird and good, especially when Juri starts moving it around. Hokuto kisses him harder, like it will help, and in a way it does as Juri slips in another with only a little resistance.

“Ah,” Hokuto says, a delayed reaction to Juri’s fingers moving inside him, bumping against something that has him jerking and clawing at Juri. “Keep doing that.”

“Yeah?” Juri asks, that cockiness returning because he knows exactly what Hokuto’s feeling, seeking it out to give him more of it. “Right there?”

Hokuto groans in response, his body arching and squirming beyond his control at the incredible feeling that spreads all the way to his fingertips and toes. He’s clutching onto Juri’s back now just to hold onto something, kissing him until he can’t breathe anymore and finally throws his head back, feeling Juri’s mouth latch onto his throat instead.

The third one strains him a lot, but it’s tolerable. He’ll be taking much more than that here shortly, anyway. Rolling his hips makes it easier, pushing back against the fingers that prod him and keep touching that spot, and Juri’s the one who moans at the sudden motion.

“You’re so hot right now,” Juri says, whispering against his skin, and that’s pretty damn hot, too. “I wanna be inside you so bad.”

“I want you to be,” Hokuto manages to say, physically pushing the words out of his mouth. “Fuck me, Juri.”

Juri moans again, his hand shaking as he pulls it out and reaches for the condom, and Hokuto reaches for his wrists to calm him. Juri kisses him again, another kiss of desperation as Hokuto takes the condom from him and opens it, then rolls it onto Juri’s length while swallowing his noises from the contact. Then he grabs Juri by the waist and positions him where he wants him, lifting his legs to wrap around Juri’s waist as Juri just pushes in without preamble, letting out another noise that’s even more gorgeous now that Juri’s inside him.

“Oh my god,” Juri gasps, his face somewhere in Hokuto’s collarbone as he bottoms out and presses as close as he can to Hokuto’s chest. “This feels so incredible.”

“You feel good, too,” Hokuto tells him, reaching up a hand to thread through Juri’s damp hair. “You can move whenever you’re ready. I’m okay.”

Juri nods, giving a test thrust that has Hokuto’s back arching again. He doesn’t stop, rocking back and forth slowly at first until Hokuto’s body starts seeking it out, meeting Juri’s efforts that gradually speed up. It feels so surreal to have something moving inside him, almost pounding as his muscles give way to the full thickness of Juri’s cock.

“Hokku,” Juri breathes, and just the tone of his voice takes Hokuto higher, nails digging into Juri’s back enough to hope that he doesn’t have any shirtless shoots coming up. “Hokuto.”

“Aim up a little bit,” Hokuto hisses, because he can’t angle his own hips anymore, but then Juri does as he’s told and it feels a million times better when that spot is stimulated with Juri inside him, hitting it with his own cock, and he’d say as much if he could still form words.

All he can do is groan out a passable version of Juri’s name and push back, getting a deep ab workout that he’s going to feel for a week to take Juri in even deeper. Juri catches on and fucks him harder, crying out into his shoulder as he starts to shudder. With what little coherence he has left, Hokuto rushes to shove his hand between them and coil his fingers around his own cock, groans lacing every breath as he pulls himself off, racing for the finish.

Both of their noises get louder as Juri brings his hand in to join Hokuto’s, both of them pumping him until he tenses and comes over their fingers. He feels his orgasm in every nerve of his body, the sharp tingles lingering and even heightening as Juri pulses inside him and falls still.

Hokuto’s entire body aches, but for a few glorious seconds all he feels is pleasure, the weight of Juri’s body on top of his bringing them even closer together, at least until Hokuto’s brain starts registering pain again. His next moan is more of a whine, and Juri scrambles to roll off of him enough for him to stretch out his legs and wince.

“Fuck, I hurt you,” Juri says, sounding equally sad and angry about it. “Why didn’t you say something? I didn’t have to go that hard.”

“I didn’t know until right now,” Hokuto replies honestly, flopping out an arm to pull Juri into a half embrace. “I’m fine anyway. Just sore. That’s normal, right?”

“Yeah, but I still don’t like it.” Juri frowns as he squints at the clock. “Shit, I have to get home. It’s a school night.”

“Stay over,” Hokuto whispers, refusing to release Juri even when he starts to squirm. “My parents won’t care.”

“Maybe…” Juri says slowly. “I’ll tell my mom I’m staying with you, and you tell yours you’re staying with me, and we both stay here?”

Hokuto shrugs. “Room’s already paid for. May as well.”

Quick texts serve the purpose, along with promises to stop home before school in the morning to change into fresh uniforms, which works out because the only thing that gets Hokuto out of this bed is the promise of a hot bath and ultimate spoiling.

*

_Love hotels are never a good idea_ , Fujigaya had said, and Hokuto remembers it all too late. It’s not a fan, colleague, or even  _Friday_  who catches them—it’s their mothers.

“If you’re going to lie about staying somewhere, at least be smart enough to use a friend whose mother I don’t know personally,” Hokuto’s mom lectures him entirely too early when she greets him at the door doing the walk of shame, shaking her head at the state of his uniform. “I hope you used protection, young man!”

Hokuto almost laughs at the irony, because he’s the one who’s mostly limping despite Juri refusing to do it again last night. “Mom, it wasn’t like that, I promise. I was with Juri.”

“I know that.” She sighs. “I texted his mother right after I got your message to thank her for taking care of you. Imagine my surprise when she said she was about to text me the same thing! We knew instantly that we’d been had by our scheming sons. The only thing that kept us from worrying was knowing you two were together, undoubtedly getting into trouble.”

Interesting choice of words, Hokuto thinks, but all he says is, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“I told you, you can bring girls here,” she goes on, and Hokuto feels guilty for deceiving her. “As much as I don’t want to think about my baby doing those things yet, you  _are_  eighteen now and I’d rather you do them here instead of some filthy love hotel.”

“It wasn’t  _that_  filthy,” Hokuto says without thinking, then covers his mouth.

His mother just shakes her head. “I sure hope she was worth it.”

“There were no girls,” Hokuto says firmly. “I told you, I was with Juri.”

“At a love hotel?” she asks skeptically. “What, were you watching the free AV movies or something?”

“No, Mom, we—” Hokuto sighs, way too tired and sore to deal with this. “I was  _with_  Juri.”

His mother stares at him for a long time, then swallows. “Well, then you can do those things here, too.”

Hokuto’s attention perks, suddenly wide awake. “You’re okay with it? Me and him, I mean.”

“Of course I am,” she says, looking affronted that he’d thought she wouldn’t be. “And between you and me, I like him much better than Kyoumoto-kun.”

Hokuto laughs so hard that it hurts, and he can’t stop even when his mother informs him that he’s still grounded for a week.

*

“Even I don’t go to love hotels,” Taiga says with a smirk, and both Hokuto and Juri roll their eyes.


End file.
